Spaced Series 2 review

From the TWU Archive Pods, part 2 of this 2004 appreciation of Spaced. Words- Sean Alexander. Episode 1: Back 
In which Daisy returns from Asia to find changes at home…and the interest of two familiar ‘agents’. 
Between series one and two of Spaced, an important cultural change took place.  A generation of fans raised on the original Star Wars trilogy had - like Simon Pegg himself - seen The Phantom Menace and decided, once and all, that George Lucas was just a great fake who’d got lucky three times. Actually, two great cultural changes had taken place: The Matrix, released the same summer as The Phantom Menace, had become the most successful and influential piece of pop-culture since Star Wars. So into this cultural miasma arrives the second series of Spaced.  And it’s hard not to dissociate these changes in nerd culture from the resultant opening half-hour of the show’s sophomore year.  There’s no denying it’s back with a bang: refreshed, revitalised and freshly engorged by the ever-expanding media landscape on which its original success was hewn.  Spaced no longer just makes do with cannibalising every film and TV show going; it now has its own cultural heritage to draw on.  Not bad for a show only one year old!  What’s so good about ‘Back’ is how easily it slips into the old routine - with even a voice-over refreshing for first-time viewers - without seeming staid as a result.  Into this is mixed a poignant discourse on the fear and isolation of losing touch with one’s domestic familiarity.  Daisy, absent for six months, returns to a world familiar yet strange on her return from the far east, not least of which is her replacement in Tim’s immediate sphere by new flatmate Mike.  That the episode ends with things - largely - back to normal is as much a relief to the watching viewer as it is to Daisy herself.

Spaced Series 1 review

From the TWU archives, Sean Alexander looks at the series Spaced. First published in the print zine in (gasp) 2004. 

British TV comedy experienced something of a renaissance in the late Nineties.  Reeves and Mortimer, Alan Partridge and The League of Gentleman have all left a rich legacy for future historians to analyse and deconstruct in years to come.  But arguably even the overwhelming success of ‘modern’ sitcom The Office papers over today’s comedies’ credentials for inheriting the classic sitcom mantle.  Because the nineties were when sitcoms grew up, becoming more comedy drama than broad situational farces.  The evidence of The Vicar of Dibley’s sole inclusion underlines this.  While comedy, by nature, has always run a fine line between the funny and the sad, modern shows like Little Britain and Nighty Night are continuing the nineties trend for tragic comedy.  However, there was one sitcom made in the past five years that did uphold the cosy traditions of halcyon days.  With a twist.  It depicted an eclectic group of friends and their struggles to find happiness and meaning in an increasingly hostile world.  But it added a post-modern, pop-culturally obsessive and occasionally surreal style to its familiar template.
Its name? Spaced. It ran on Channel 4 for two series between 1999 and 2001.  Written by comedians Simon Pegg (previously best known for the slightly dark and twisted sketch show Big Train) and Jessica Stevenson (hitherto the downtrodden - and eternally weight-conscious - Cheryl in The Royle Family) it tells the story of twenty-somethings Tim Bisley and Daisy Steiner’s attempts to find purpose and fulfilment in the occasionally scary world of pre-Millennium North London.  Posing as a ‘professional’ couple, they are joined in their illicit co-habitation by a variety of colourful housemates.  There is their landlady, Marsha, a woman for whom the pursuit of the opposite sex is matched only by her capacity for a bottle of red or three.  Downstairs is tortured artist Brian, forever carrying the pain - and the paint - of his endeavours on his sinewy torso.  Elsewhere, Mike is Tim’s gun-loving, ex-territorial army best friend, as likely to bring some small arms to any house party as any beverage.  While Daisy’s best friend, Twist - with her lisping voice and day-glo ensembles - is as terminally vacuous as she is self-absorbed.

Slaughterhouse Rulez review

The first film from Simon Pegg and Nick Frost’s production company is a mixture of horror-comedy, public school manners and anti -fracking parable. If that sounds like an unlikely brew, it actually works well albeit with a few editing and character issues. Slaughterhouse public school luxuriates in its own grounds and woodlands; in the latter a fracking operation has begun disturbing the ground and whatever is living underneath them. Through new starter Northern lad Don (Finn Cole) we discover the sort of harsh, humiliating ritual you might expect from such an establishment, probably drawn from director and co- writer Crispian Mills’ own experiences at Stowe boarding school where alot of this film was shot.  A sign of Mills’ aspirations for the film might be a photo of Malcolm McDowell from the iconic If… spotted early on and while this film is also something of a hybrid of genres it’s a different beast.

The World's End

Can the third film in the Cornetto Trilogy be as refreshing as the first two?

If you look at the title there’s something not quite as interesting about The World’s End. Whereas Shaun of the Dead was a spot on pastiche of zombie movies and Hot Fuzz took the gun toting action of the U.S to a sleepy English town, this third film in the so called Cornetto Trilogy is kind of a combination of the two. It spoofs the familiar moves of sci-fi invasion films and it brings the end of the world to a small town but is it hilarious? Not as funny as it thinks it is. Is it well observed? Of course it is but if you are making a film about something and then you give it all away in the first half hour what else do you have left to do but destroy the world? Until the sci-fi kicks in, The World’s End is a rather interesting take on growing older played with all the gusto such a great cast can deliver. Afterwards, it becomes less funny and all its observations seem to be about the films it is copying rather than the characters it has established.